Harry Potter VS Murphy's Law
by SisterGryffin-SisterSlytherin
Summary: Everyone knows the streak of amazing luck that Harry Potter always enjoyed. The laws of checks and balances, however, dictate that where there is good luck there is bad. This is the story of the boy who ended up getting hit with all of Harry's bad luck!


Hello; my name is Murphy Lawson. You won't have any idea at all who I am, of course; no one in my year was noticed once the famous Harry Potter came on the scene with his cronies and his enemies and all that. But then I might never have stood out anyway; I'm the plain kind of guy who kind of fades into the background and most people don't even know I'm there even if I jump up and down and shout.

As I said, I did attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I had a fairly average first year; nothing really stood out to me as something I would shine at. My second year I had high hopes; I had studied all summer and was ready to step up and show them what I was really made of, but I never had a chance. That was the year that Harry Potter came to Hogwarts.

I know what you're wondering; did I know him? I can tell you that I did, and that I wish I hadn't. From the moment that he entered my life, things have been going wrong. I was in the same house as Harry Potter and everything he did changed my life; both him and his friends. You know them too; that irritating know-it-all witch he hung about with as well as that mass of redheaded Weasleys.

They all had such lovely luck; I couldn't even come near that kind of luck unless I'd managed to get that Felix Felicis potion. And I may be able to afford one next month. I've been saving for it for over three years.

Yes, it all boils down to luck, and how vengeance is a very sweet dish best served cold.

* * *

Harry woke slowly, confused and disoriented. He'd been struck from behind by... something... he had no idea what, and was only regaining his senses now. He blinked, realizing his glasses must have fallen off his face, everything was blurry. He was seated and it wasn't until he tried to reach to see if he could locate his lost glasses that he realized that he was tied up. Not just tied, but bound up with silvery bands of… Merlin. Was this duct tape? His hands had been clasped with fingers interlaced and taped together heavily as well. If this was duct tape, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to tape him every inch to this chair. Only his head was free of tape; everything else was secured firmly by layers of the strong gray sticky stuff. He tried to move his fingers experimentally but found they barely had any feeling in them at all. Okay, what the hell was going on...?!

"Waking up, are you? Good. I want you to be awake when I end this." a voice said to his left. Harry simply turned his head to look at the speaker. The man was his age but his face looked old and careworn; he had several scars on his face and hands, and he wore a funny little bowler hat on his head. The man wasn't particularly tall or short, wasn't dark or pale, had plain brown hair and brown eyes, no freckles or other distinguishing marks. Except for the scars he looked perfectly ordinary.

"End what?" Harry asked, not sure at all what was going on. He vaguely recognized this fellow; something told him he saw him at school once or twice, but he couldn't place him no matter how hard he racked his memories.

The man drew a wand out of his pocket; Harry's wand. He made a point to show it to him, then he set it on the table behind him and picked up what was lying there; it was a huge gun. The barrel was about ten inches around, and to Harry it looked to be a muggle missile launcher of some sort. What in the name of Merlin would a wizard be doing with a weapon like that?!

He stared at it in shock, and the man laughed. "Getting the idea now, are you?" he said with a crazed giggle. "I'm getting even with you, Potter." he said, stroking the barrel of the weapon. "Getting even for you for everything you've done to me!"

"Even? What the bloody hell have I ever done to you?!" he demanded in total confusion.

The man blinked at him, surprised. "You don't know?" he asked, astounded. "You don't even know! You ruined my ENTIRE BLOODY LIFE, Potter!!" he half-screamed at him, eyes almost bugging out of their sockets.

"I don't even know who the hell you are!" Harry yelled back at the man.

"My name is Murphy Lawson!" he snapped. "Gryffindor House; I went to school with you and your bloody friends for six bloody years!"

"Oh... but I didn't know you. And I certainly didn't do anything to hurt you; maybe you have me confused with Malfoy." He suggested, having absolutely no clue how he could have done anything to hurt this fellow.

"Oh no; it was all you, Potter. You nearly got me killed while we were at Hogwarts, more than once! You cost me my girl. You cost me the job I always wanted. You cost me my best grades and ruined the best years of my life! It wasn't Draco Malfoy who did all that, it was YOU!"

"How the hell could I ruin your life if I didn't even bloody know you?"

* * *

---------------------------FLASHBACK---------------------

"Oh, rotten luck that..." Ron said sympathetically, seeing Harry's chocolate frog leap out of the window. "They've only got one good jump in them..." He commented. The two promptly forgot about the candy as a lost cause.

In the next car of the train, several more students were enjoying themselves and enjoying the journey as the train meandered its way through the countryside. Three were brand new students and the other two, returning for their second year, were enjoying taking turns telling the others of what to expect when they got there. At the moment the stories were about things that were not allowed at Hogwarts. Murphy Lawson was currently regaling them with a tale of how over-reactive Filch was to anything that broke his rules when his fellow second year, who had been digging in his bag, straightened, turning back to the group.

"Hey, you blokes, look at this. Filch hates these things and if he catches you with one he'll give you detention for a month!" he said, holding out a strange little package.

"Merlin's beard, Jack, don't get that thing out on the train…!" Murphy began.

"What is it?" One of the first years asked, eyeing it.

"Must be cool if Filch don't like it." Another grinned. "My brother says Filch is a real git." He reached out and snatched it from the older boy's hand. Before he could stop him, he pulled the release cord on the dung-bomb.

Immediately the compartment filled with the rank stench of dung-bomb. Coughing and gagging for clean air, Murphy Lawson pried open a window and turned his face into the oncoming breeze, wheezing to get a clean breath into his lungs.

"Well that explains why he hates them... Lawson, come on you're hogging all the fresh air!" his friend choked, trying to pull him out of the way to get to clean air as well.

Lawson staggered backwards and fell on the seat, clutching his throat. A pair of Chocolate Frog legs were protruding out of his mouth, only the tips of the feet wiggling limply with their last spurt of magical energy. The head and body of the chocolate candy had become lodged in his windpipe and he could no longer breathe.

The train's staff had to be called to render medical aid and get the candy unlodged from the boy's throat and he was not allowed, as the others were, to leave the train and get into the horseless carriages to enjoy a companionable ride to Hogwarts. Instead he was loaded in a bumpy wagon and hauled off immediately to the hospital wing to be treated by a nurse who seemed to be irritated that someone was soiling the sheets of her hospital room. As such, he missed all of the opening dinner and the sorting as well; he was simply shuffled off to his rooms where a liquid diet had been left for him. He could barely speak the entire first week, and had been on a liquid diet the entire time enforced by ever-watchful house elves.

* * *

------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------

"Oh come on, Murphy; it's not like I threw that frog at you or something." Harry said, astounded that his escaped chocolate frog could have caused such havoc and he hadn't even known.

"That's only the first thing that's happened to me because of you!" he snapped. "I've spent months in detention because of YOU!"

"Me? How could I get you sent to detention?"

"You remember that first Halloween?"

"…the night the Troll got in?"

* * *

----------------- FLASHBACK TIME -----------------------

"Ron! Hermione! She doesn't know!" Harry hissed at Ron, pulling him back out of the line following Percy Weasley back up to the tower.

Lawson, who had been just coming round the corner, staggered back slightly as the two rushed past him. He gazed after them, confused, then heard Percy again calling authoritatively for everyone to hurry up and follow him. What the bloody hell were Potter and Weasley doing, going to find the troll themselves? They were first years, they'd be killed!

Murphy snarled an oath and set off after the two, who had vanished down the hallway. Not sure which way he should go, he headed for where Professor Quirrel had said that the troll had gotten into the building; the dungeons. He barreled through the empty halls and down the spiraling staircase into the black dungeons. "Lumos!" He whispered, drawing his wand. By its light he began to run through the hallways in search of the others.

He couldn't find them. He felt like he'd checked every classroom, every area except for Snape's office and class – he knew where THEY were - in the entire dungeon. At least it felt like it… it was so damned dark down here that he lost his bearings more than once. Everything looked the same. It wasn't really long before he felt he was totally lost. He heard a teacher approaching and doused his wand immediately, hiding in a nook behind a statue, his heart pounding so loudly that he was sure that they must hear it. Severus Snape swept past him, grumbling about idiot Gryffindor and their desire for death.

He waited until he actually heard a door open and close before he moved again. He re-lit his wand and halted, seeing a particularly scruffy thin cat seated in the hallway staring at him. Mrs. Norris! He turned and found himself face to face with the castle's caretaker, Argus Filch.

"Runnin' about in the dungeons, are ye…? Well, you're in deep, you are, Mr. Lawson…" he said, his face breaking into a wide grin of excitement. He seized the boy's wand hand and removed the wand from it, taking him by the other arm. "Shall we see what Professor Snape has to say about a Gryffindor skulking around in his dungeons on Halloween night…?"

"I just… I got lost sir…" he attempted, but Filch's smile only grew and he dragged him down the hallway where Professor Snape had vanished.

* * *

------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------

"I was lost down there for hours!" He said, glaring at Harry, who found he was hard-pressed not to smirk at that. This guy had been lost in the dungeons for hours?? The dungeons weren't that complex, really; if you just followed them around long enough they looped around and led you right back to the exit. He must have the directional instincts of a lemming! "I got caught by Filch and Professor Snape sentenced me to a month's detention working for Filch because of you!" he scowled, adjusting the ridiculously large gun on his shoulder.

"Again, not my fault; we said where we were going, had anyone been paying any attention. Everyone knew that Hermione was in the girl's bathroom..." Harry explained.

Lawson glared at him, eyes narrow. "I'm gonna get even with you for every bit of it, Potter!" he said. "Everything you do effects other people and you're so busy being the famous 'Chosen One' that you don't even bloody notice!"

Harry was growing quite concerned about his own health; that gun that Larsen had his hand resting on looked big enough to take his head off in one shot. He was wandless and no one was expecting him anywhere for hours; no one would even be looking for him.

"You never thought about it, did you Potter?" he asked, his eyes snapping with his anger. "Every bloody thing you did! And to top it all off, you just had to be SO bloody brilliant at flying!"

He found himself quite confused at that statement. "I love flying. What's wrong with that?"

"No one gets on the quidditch team when they're eleven; that's never happened! No first year has EVER been on Gryffindor's quidditch team!" He snapped.

"What the bloody hell did my being seeker have anything to do with you?"

"I was supposed to be the seeker! Oliver Wood had let me try out for the team the day before! He was considering ME for team seeker until you, you little sneak, go and show off in front of McGonagall!"

"I wasn't showin' off, I was just getting my friend's rememberall back. I didn't even know where McGonagall's office was at that point!" Harry was getting irritated at these accusations; he hadn't done any of these damned things to hurt anyone.

"Shut up, Potter!" He turned and hefted the big weapon up onto his shoulder and the sight of the barrel aimed at him made him think twice about saying anything more.

Harry stared a moment, then decided that humility was his best weapon against this guy's obsessive fury. Maybe if he just kept him talking he would be like all the crazed guys he saw on the telly; he'd just keep talking until help showed up for Harry, or he got it all out of his system. It was his only chance, really… "Sorry." He murmured.

Lawson grunted, not mollified much, still quite angered, but he did lower the barrel of the gun slightly. "And then you and your bloody fancy flying got you MY position on the team. I was supposed to be the seeker; I was supposed to get all that glory! You didn't need it; hell, you were famous just for living!"

"I didn't ask to be famous, you know." He answered. "But I suppose I've never looked at it that way." Harry admitted. "If you'd have told me, said one word, I'd have given you the position in a heartbeat, especially before that first game. I wasn't ever told that anyone else had tried for the seeker position…"

"You enjoyed every moment of that damned glory, didn't you?" He asked, scowling. "You sure ate it up fourth year as the 'Tri-Wizard Champion'…!"

"I didn't even put my name in that cup!"

"Oh come on, Potter, you know bloody well that you did! How the hell you got past the magic barrier I'll never know; I was old enough to get in that too! And again, you got chosen and I bloody didn't! How did you get past the one champion per school?"

"Does it really matter? I wasn't chosen to be the Tri-Wizard Champion for Hogwarts, Cedric was." Harry reminded, not wanting to go into all the details of that entire time unless he had no choice.

"Amelia gave me one of those 'Potter Stinks' badges. You probably didn't even notice I was wearin' it, did you?"

"I must admit that I didn't…"

"Your friend Ronald did." He said, glaring at him. "He hexed me every time he saw me wearing it… always caught me off guard." He grumbled. "Figures the only damned class he'd be good in is charms…"

"Did he get you with a bat-bogey hex?" Harry asked.

"So you DID know!" he accused.

"I had no idea; honestly. Anyone can tell you that the Bat-Bogey hex is the one that Ginny is best at. She uses it every time one of her brothers does something irritating. I doubt Ron's as good at it as she is…"

"No, he's not as good as she is. She hexed me too." He scowled. "As if that's not bad enough, you have to go and break the damned rules of the first trial and bring your broom in…"

"I didn't break the rules; it said we could use our wand for whatever we wished. I used it to summon my broom. Flying was always my best skill, how else was I to take on a full grown mother dragon?"

* * *

----------------- FLASHBACK TIME -----------------------

"Accio Broom!" Harry said for the third time, growing desperate. The dragon snarled and tried to get around the rock at him, blowing another jet of fire that felt like it nearly scalded off his hair. He heard something as the dragon did and his broom shot to him out of nowhere; in a heartbeat he was on it and off flying. The furious mother dragon lunged after him, spreading her wings and launching into the air as she shot off another jet of flame and launched into pursuit.

The crowd screamed and ducked; the dragon's fire licked several in the crowd but struck only one and then the stands were smashed by her tail as she passed. Harry, only intent on surviving long enough to get back to get the egg, paid no further attention on what was going on behind him.

Murphy Lawson, seated in the top row, not only got hit by the flames of the dragon's angry attack toward Harry; he was one of the two students bowled backwards out of the stands. It all seemed to happen in slow motion for him. He saw the flames arcing from the dragon's mouth and it seemed just about to snap at him when she surged upward with another stroke of her wings in hot pursuit of the one who endangered her eggs. Her flames continued toward him and though he tried to duck and turn, he felt the heat envelop his head. Then her tail struck and the stands seemed to just evaporate under his body and he was falling toward the ground.

He woke already back inside the castle. How the bloody hell had he gotten here…? His head felt like it was still on fire and Professor McGonogall was right at his side, looking worried and her expression quite pinched. "What… happened?" he asked.

"Hush dear; we're almost to the hospital wing. Pomfrey will be here as quickly as she can; she insisted on staying until the end of the challenge to ensure no one died…" she murmured. He reached up to touch the top of his head but his hand was caught by McGonogall. "No, dear. You've been hit by dragon fire; you mustn't touch it. I don't know if Poppy can repair the damage if you touch it…"

"Damage…?"

"Your hair, dear. I'm afraid to tell you... you don't have much left."

* * *

------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------

"I had a broken arm and several broken fingers, and a sprained ankle. And I look like THIS thanks to you!" He snapped, ripping the bowler hat off his head and flinging it aside. Atop his head was a small tuft of hair that kind of meandered sideways across his head, with scarring preventing any hair from growing on the top of his head. He had the sides of his hair and sideburns, but nothing at all on top but that odd tuft. "That damned dragon fire burned my hair off and it's never grown back! Nothing works to make it grow…! You can't deny that you made THIS happen to me!"

"Not on purpose…" Harry defended, trying his absolute best not to allow any humor into the situation. The way Lawson's hair looked reminded Harry strongly of the clowns they used to show on muggle children's telly shows.

"It doesn't matter if it was on purpose or not! You cost me my hair and you cost me my girl!"

"Your girl didn't want you because of what happened to your hair…?" Harry asked. He was getting more and more confused by all of this. How had the dragon burning off his hair had anything to do with a girl?

"No! Merlin, everyone thinks you're so bloody brilliant but no one knows how impossibly thick you are!" he snapped at him. "The YULE BALL!"

"Oh… well, mate, I didn't know that you were even hurt… I would have…"

"You did enough! Thanks to you I was restricted to the hospital wing for two weeks while the Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape tried to find something that would help me!"

"Sorry. There's really nothing else I can say than I'm sorry. I really do mean it …"

Lawson looked pained, leaning back against the table that Harry's wand lay upon. Harry gazed at it longingly and tried to move his hands; the tape only pulled hairs out of his fingers but did not loosen in the slightest. If his hands had not been tied, he would have tried to summon the wand to him but he there was no point in the attempt. Murphy had ensured that even if he did he would be unable to use it or even touch it with a fingertip by taping his hands this way.

"I was supposed to go to the Yule Ball with Amelia Bones; she was the most beautiful girl in that entire place. Her pretty blue eyes and that long wavy red hair… she was an absolute vision, even better than any of those damned French girls flitting about. I adored her from the first day I saw her in school; I waited until she was fifteen to ask her out and the Yule Ball was the perfect chance… She was furious at me for standing her up; she never spoke to me civilly again thanks to you!"

"She's still not married, you know… I know her. I could talk to her for you…" Harry offered, trying to move his fingers a little again; nothing.

"She's engaged! You saw the announcement in the Prophet; she's to be married at the end of the year. She's forgotten that I even existed!" He said in an angered, sulky tone. "Don't offer me things you can't deliver, Potter!"

"I CAN talk to her for you… maybe she does remember…"

"I won't interfere on her happiness! I love her too much…" he said, adjusting the heavy weapon on his shoulder. Harry fell silent, allowing the man to sulk for a while; he felt that was his best option. Another outburst from this man might get his head blown off. Finally, he began to speak again. "That's not all you did, Potter. You and your damned 'golden trio'…"

"There's more…?"

"I hate Weasleys." He said with a curled lip. "…Hate them!"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"It figures you didn't know." he grumbled. "Your friend Granger could have stopped them, but she just let them keep on…"

"Who? Keep on what?"

* * *

---------------- FLASHBACK TIME -----------------------

A group of several students stood in one of the hallways, gathered around the twins who were making a proposal to those around them. "We'll give you five knuts to try it." Fred grinned, holding the candy out to Lawson.

"Oh come on, man, what are you afraid of?" George goaded him. "You liked the Canary Creams, didn't you? They didn't hurt you at all…"

"No, of course not. They were pretty tasty, too." Murphy said, considering it.

"And you're not paying for it… what you gonna lose?"

"We guarantee we have the remedy…"

Lawson glanced at the others; each person was handed a treat of a differing color. "Didn't Granger tell you not to do this anymore?"

"Nah…" George began.

"Just told us…" Fred continued

"Not to do it…" George continued

"In the common room." Both finished together.

The boys in the group glanced at each other and one shrugged; the four boys then popped the treats into their mouths.

"Hem-Hem!" A false soprano voice sang out, the clacking of her shoes now clearly heard on the stones as she approached them. Dolores Umbridge, with Argus Filch close behind, was sweeping down upon the group. She halted in disgust when one of the boys began to throw up violently, almost splashing on his boots. "Ugh! What…?!"

One of the boys hit the floor, face flushed with fever and another's face burst into boils and pimples. Lawson's nose began to bleed profusely. He looked around for George or Fred but neither of the tall Weasley boys was anywhere in sight.

* * *

------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------

"Dolores Umbridge came in and hauled us all off to the hospital wing! Madam Pomfrey kept making me drink these horrible potions to restore my blood and I was so damned weak by the time that she found one of the twins to give me the antidote I was kept in the hospital wing for three days! And then Umbridge gave me LINES…!" he showed Harry his left hand, where "I will not loiter in the halls" was etched ever so faintly.

"I had the same punishment, more than once that year." Harry reminded. "But if you don't mind me saying it sounds like you should be angry at the twins for that, not me."

"It's all YOUR fault, Potter!" He insisted. "You had your friends so preoccupied with taking care of you and your business that they didn't care what the twin terrors were up to! If they had been doing their jobs as prefects they would have STOPPED them from doing what they were doing…! Ronald wasn't even PRETENDING to do his prefect duties!"

"I don't see how I had any control over that…"

"That's not the only problem that your friend Granger caused me!" he snapped.

"You'll have to tell me about it; I haven't any idea what you're talking about…"

"The year that Sirius Black was lurking about the grounds of Hogwarts!"

"That doesn't tell me much, I…"

* * *

------------- FLASHBACK TIME ---------

"Jumped-up mudblood; I'll get even with her if it's the last thing I do!" Draco snarled, holding a tissue to his still-bleeding and slightly crooked nose.

"Merlin's balls, I think your nose is broken, Draco…"

"Shut UP, Goyle, I can tell it's broken!" He snapped angrily as they hurried up the stairs toward the hospital wing.

"Thrice-damned Gryffindors…" Crabbe growled as he huffed along after Draco. He hated these stupid stairs and that there was so much hallway to cross from here to there. But Draco did need to get to the hospital wing and get his nose healed.

"I'm gonna throttle the next one I see!" Goyle grumbled, not liking Draco being angry at him.

"Don't be a fool, Goyle; Professor Snape said he'd have our hides if we cost our house any more points this year!" Draco growled at him.

Murphy Lawson trotted down the stairs, heading for the great hall; he'd forgotten his book bag down there and would be in a lot of trouble if he lost his homework again. He moved aside to one side of the stairs to allow the three slytherins to pass him, glancing at Malfoy curiously. "You all right Malfoy? What the bloody hell happened to you?" he asked.

"Sod off, Gryffindor!" Goyle growled, wand in hand.

"Goyle!" Draco warned.

Goyle dropped his aim and spat a simple jinx; Murphy Lawson stepped right in the slick spot on the step and began to tumble and fall down the stairs. He rolled to a halt two flights down, dazed and confused, looking up to see Draco standing over him. "THAT was payback for Granger. Tell her we're even." He sneered, and then he and his cronies were gone.

* * *

------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------

"I swear I had no idea that he did that… you never told anyone?"

"They didn't believe me. What the bloody hell did Granger do?!"

"Hermione punched him. She had a good reason, he was being a bloody git about them wanting to execute Buckbeak…"

"Buckbeak? I got thrown down the stairs for a bloody hippogriff?" he scowled.

"Well… Yes, I guess you did…"

"You're getting off the subject! They made me fall down the bloody stairs!" he snapped. "Broke my arm and several ribs; nearly broke my neck!"

"That's horrible…"

"Are you going to try to tell me that it's not your fault either, Potter?" he challenged.

"Um… no." he said tactfully. Agreeing with his captor just seemed the right thing to do. He was rewarded when Lawson set the gun back on the table.

"You were always sneaking out of your dorm room, you and your idiot friends. We were lucky to win the house cup your first year. We lost all those points BECAUSE of you! We only got them back because you were Dumbledore's favorite. That old man doted on you every second he lived!"

"I couldn't do anything about that either; believe me, there were times I'd rather he didn't care about me so much…"

"Absolute rubbish." He snorted. "You were always looking to be in the spotlight. And you got that your sixth year, didn't you?"

"You can't think that it was my fault that Dumbledore was killed, too?"

"I don't care about that; Professor Snape was just out to get him and he finally did…"

"You say whatever you want about me, Lawson, but leave Professor Snape alone. The man died a hero; he lived a double life so that he could keep an eye on the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters for over half his life…"

"How can you defend him? That greasy git hated you!"

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't think he really did. I wish I had known him after Voldemort had finally been defeated; I would like to have spoken with him."

"You're mad." He said, staring at Harry in disbelief.

"I'm not the one standing over an old classmate with a bazooka." Harry pointed out.

It did not make him comfortable at all when Lawson grinned at him. "Maybe I am mad, but you've sent me here, Harry." He said, turning and hoisting the gun again, aiming directly at Harry's head. "And now it's time to reap what you've sown!"

* * *

--------------MUCH LATER-----------------

"Bombarda!" Ron snarled and the door and frame was blown to pieces, scattering bits of wood and debris all over the room. He surged in, flanked closely by Hermione and Neville, all three looking to battle as hard as necessary, wands held up and at the ready.

Harry had been placed in an area off to the side of the door area, as if to spare him from harm when his rescue arrived. And there he still sat, taped from the top of his shoulders to his heels, secured to the chair with duct tape in the chair as Murphy Lawson had left him. His chair had been bowled over and there was a strange white splatter on the wall.

The three hurried over to see what had happened, spreading out to protect Harry from further harm.

None of them were ready for what lay in the room awaiting them. They had been prepared for blood, for a bloody battle with massive amounts of magic expended to save their friend. They had been prepared for anything...

…anything but this.

Harry lay on his back on the floor and his face was covered from the top of his head down to his waist in a thick layer of what looked to be the remains of cream pies. It had been on him long enough to dry and get crusty. It was about an inch thick on his face, and all you could see of his face were his eyes where someone had wiped off enough to allow him to open them without getting cream in them. His mouth was covered in the stuff as well and it was clear he'd tried to clear some of it away. The crusts of the pies were scattered about in broken bits on his chest and the floor, and the splatter of white on the wall seemed to be the same stuff that covered Harry.

"It's about bloody time you got here; I thought I'd be stuck to this stupid chair all night." he grumbled, a blob of cream dripping off his nose to fall with a splat on the floor beside his face.

The three stared a long moment, the situation quickly sinking in for them. Harry was all right, and someone had hit him with what amounted to a giant cream pie. They all began to start laughing at the entire situation, so hard that Ron had to lean on the door frame and Hermione leaned on him as they tried to control their laughter.

Harry's glare at them wasn't very effective, hidden as it was by all the white muck. "Yeah, yeah, laugh at my expense. Very funny. Are you going to help me or not?"

"Harry...? What the bloody hell...?" Ron said, gasping to catch his breath and try to stop laughing as he wiped at his tears of mirth and relief. "Is that... is that marshmallow fluff...?"

Hermione, trying hard to stop laughing, was a little concerned. What if the one who had done this was still here? She cast several revealing charms but nothing showed up anywhere in the room. "There's no one else here. Whoever did this is long gone."

"I thought I was the only one this kind of stuff happened to..." Neville murmured, his eyes filled with mirth as he and Ron took the arms of the chair and went to lift him back to the feet of the chair. They slipped once, almost dropping him back to the floor, jarring some of the stuff loose to tumble to the floor and splatter.

"Neville; compared to the one who did this to me, you've led an incredibly charmed life." Harry grumbled. "Come on guys, I feel all crusty and disgusting; this stuff's even in my ears...!" He complained, looking at their fuzzy outlines.

"Your glasses and wand are right here..." Hermione scooped them off the table in the room. "Who did this Harry...?" she asked.

"Someone who felt he had enough against me to register for a blood feud." Harry answered.

"He was so tweaked off at you that he decided to cream you…? With real pies…?" Ron began to chortle, but he did begin removing the tape while Hermione began cleaning away the cream from his face to allow him to be a bit more comfortable.

Harry hissed with discomfort as the tape was pried off his skin, taking nearly every hair it touched with it. "Ron, take it easy!"

"Sorry, mate… that stuff's really hard to get loose, isn't it? I'll just use a spell and…"

"No! Damn it, Ron, just pull the stuff off me, all right? The clothes are useless now; the tape's gone and got into everything…"

"Did they hurt you, Harry?" Hermione asked, working on getting his arms loose by simply using a cutting spell to slice the tape very gingerly.

"He. Other than the spell that he used to knock me out, no." he admitted.

"Not that I want him to hurt you, mate, but that's… odd." Neville commented.

"Odd is a really good word for him." Harry agreed as he was finally freed.

"You gonna go after him, mate?" Ron asked as they tried to get some more stuff cleaned off him.

"Scourgify." Neville said clearly and Harry felt himself suddenly free of the muck. "There; that should do it…"

"Thank you Neville… no, Ron, I don't think I'm going after him. I think the kidnapping was a bit much, but he feels he's even, let's leave it at that." Harry said firmly. "Murphy's Law hit Murphy Lawson as hard as it could; I'm not adding to that a moment more."


End file.
